


to be the serpent (to give everything I am)

by packrat



Series: ke one parters [4]
Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/F, Her thoughts, It’s Villanelles pov, Killing Eve - Freeform, Season 1, Villanelle is experiencing emotions, before they meet for the first time, idk if you could call it a, inner monologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:15:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21518050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/packrat/pseuds/packrat
Summary: Hours pass easily like this, at night: Villanelle lying on top of expensive silk sheets, staring at the ceiling, planning the unpredictable and imaging that it would be Eve by her side, not a spent body that is too tall, too broad, too loud, too quiet. Just another Not-Eve. But for now, until the time is right, this is all she can do to quell her thirst for the woman with the amazing hair.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Series: ke one parters [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712638
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	to be the serpent (to give everything I am)

She is lying awake at night. Again. She still can’t fathom all the emotions coursing through her veins. The lust. The anger. The sensation of longing. 

Longing for a body that’s not the one sleeping soundly beside her. Yearning for the person hunting her. She feels electrified even though she’s doing nothing but laying on top of her silk sheets, staring at the ceiling. 

Some nights her heart beats terribly out of rhythm and all she can do to help herself is beat on her chest, willing her heart to beat for somebody else. It’s the nights she can’t take it anymore, wants to understand what is happening to her with a despair she can’t remember experiencing ever before.

She measures her time in pre-Eve and post-Eve. She wants to say that she can’t remember her life before Eve but she can clearly. And it’s laced with boredom, filled to the brim with it. Pre Eve she would measure her time in murder and not-murder, in alive and dull, in adrenaline and boredom. Post Eve she struggles to pinpoint a moment when she hasn’t felt bored to death. 

Villanelle realizes she should be terribly bored right now and yet -- 

These days it seems she can’t be bored as long as she’s thinking about her next move to keep the MI6 agent on her toes. The thrill of adrenaline of just thinking about her name fills her body with an excitement and hunger she doesn’t quite know how to quell yet (might never learn how to quell). The thrill awoken by just the thought of running her fingers along smooth skin, from her back over her spine to her arms, up the shoulder and over her face and finally into her hair. 

All she really wants to do is run her slender fingers through thick and luscious black curls, pull them straight to watch them spring back into place. She craves it. More than anything in this moment. It’s all she’s been craving for since they came face-to-face in the poorly lit hospital bathroom. 

_Wear it down._

And as she left the bathroom she understood that the asian woman with the gorgeous hair was there for her. So she left her a present, one of many, and an invitation to follow her. 

She calls her one night stands by her hunter’s name. Seeks out the ones with dark unruly hair. Those older than her. Those smaller than her. Brings them back to her hotel room. 

_I’ll call you Eve._

Because Eve is all she can think about when she’s awake and asleep. By day and by night. With every inhale and exhale, every single beating of her heart and everything and anything in between it’s her she is thinking about. 

Eve. Eve. Eve. Eve. Eve. Eve. Eve. (She’s drowning in her name, thick like honey, and at the same time she thinks that this must be breathing and she’s been doing it all wrong her whole life. She hates doing things wrong, the need to be perfect ever present in the back of her mind.)

Eve ist feast and Villanelle, Villanelle is famine.

She demands that the Not-Eve’s don’t say a word. Demands that they don’t touch her. This will be a privilege reserved for Eve. Demands they wear the clothes she stole from Eve in Berlin. She just needs to satisfy her need to satisfy Eve. 

Villanelle would never admit it out loud but she thinks Eve might be the most beautiful person on the planet (but she herself is a close second - maybe they share first place even though she hates sharing. But she’s willing to do it for Eve. Willing to do anything for Eve).

She does not understand what is happening to her. Can’t fathom the tingling sensation spreading all within her body and setting it ablaze like a match would ignite a forest fire. She’s never felt this before. Not with Anna. Not with her countless conquests (especially not the male ones - they were just a last resort when she could not find anyone else to quell her hunger but since she’s met Eve there was simply no room left for male Not-Eve’s ), not with anyone. The closest thing she could compare it to would be the thrill of the kill. 

If she was to compare it. 

She never saw the point of analyzing how things made her feel, if they made her feel anything but bored. Emotions were always all-confusing and something just out of reach for her. Something she could not control so she simply stopped. Feeling. And women, she concluded at an early age, are mysteries that don’t need analyzing, don't need comparing, especially don’t need solving. They just need to be. Need to exist to be looked at. To be touched. To be worshipped. 

All she wants to do is worship Eve. And she wonders if Eve would want the same. All Villanelle wants to be is Adam and the serpent and the apple. 

She knows that Eve and her are the same, made from the same flesh, the same pair of ribs. That Eve was carved from Villanelle’s body. She wants to be Eve’s genesis, Eve’s lover, wants to introduce Eve to every eye-opening sin known to mankind. Wants for Eve to stop wandering this Earth with closed eyes. They are wide open but closed to the world. Wants her to realize that Niko will never be enough. But that she will. 

She just wants to show Eve her own version of the Garden of Eden, show her what heaven can be like if she’d just allow it. 

Eve, for her, is all-consuming. Villanelle never believed in God or the Bible or any kind of religion for that matter but Eve’s existence alone might just change her mind (might have already changed her mind, unknowingly to her. All she wants to do is take a bite of Eve’s apple and see. All she wants to do is see. Finally see). 

Hours pass easily like this, at night: Villanelle lying on top of expensive silk sheets, staring at the ceiling, planning the unpredictable and imaging that it would be Eve by her side, not a spent body that is too tall, too broad, too loud, too quiet. Just another Not-Eve. But for now, until the time is right, this is all she can do to quell her thirst for the woman with the amazing hair.


End file.
